Samanas / ヤマイヌ

Some Samanas once passed through Siddhartha’s town.
Wandering ascetics, they were three thin worn-out men,
neither old nor young, with dusty and bleeding shoulders,
practically naked, scorched by the sun,
solitary, strange and hostile―lean jackals in the world of men.
Around them hovered an atmosphere of unpitying self-denial.